Teufelsblut
by Aesculap
Summary: Season 2; Dean is sick and Sam knows he has to help his brother - but they are nowhere near civilization. As he realizes his brother has been poisoned it might be already too late.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Poor **caffienekitty **has too much to work and because, you know, too much work makes **caffienekitty**... I think you get the direction. And so I wrote a little h/c oneshot - well, partly one-shot, because I'm obviously unable to write something short...

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Dean was developing a headache. At first it had been only a small fluttering behind his left temple, but that feeling soon expanded and now even his eyes hurt. Normally he would have let Sam drive. But right now? Not an option. His brother had been sick for the better of two weeks - a really nasty cold, but no flu, thank god for small favors - and he was still tiring soon. So Dean really did not want him behind the wheel, falling asleep, wrapping his girl around a tree or something. He took a glance at his watch. Two more hours 'till civilization - well, 'till the next village even. Dean did not plan on stopping until then, headache or not.

Singing to the music did not help. Heck, even music alone hurt like a bitch. So Dean drove in silence. Except for Sam's regular breathing and sometimes snoring sounds. Less than half an hour had passed, but he soon was reaching a point where he needed a break. The dark street in front of him, only illuminated by the impala's strong lights, was blurred and even blinking did not change that. Dean pulled the car to a stop and looked at his brother. Sam was still sound asleep. And Dean was not going to change that. He only needed fresh air.

He opened his door and a gust of cold autumn air swept inside. Dean shivered briefly before stepping outside into the dark night. The chill did not help his headache as it normally would have and standing up even increased the fierce ponding behind his eyes to a new level. The world swayed and Dean had to put a hand on the impala's roof to steady himself. There was the taste of coffee in his mouth... It made him wonder... But Dean could not finish that thought. His knees buckled and darkness engulfed his consciousness, as the night had his body only moments before.

When Sam woke up it was freezing cold in the car. In fact, it was very likely the chill woke him. He tried to blink his disorientation away, sleep still held him in his claws. So it took Sam a certain amount of time before he noticed the lack of Dean. No music. No rambling. And no prank he had noticed 'till now. But the door was left open. Apparently it has been opened quite some time ago judging from the temperature inside. Somewhere inside Sam an alarm started to blare. He hurried outside, quickly, but cautiously never the less. Somewhere outside there could be... Dean! Sam's heart missed a beat as he saw his brother lying on the concrete only a few meters from the car on the street. Luckily until now no one had used the deserted highway otherwise they surely would have run over Dean. Sam hurried to get his brother back to the impala, feeling light tremors as he gripped his arms firmly.

Sam manhandled his brother on the backseats before turning on the impalas inside light to take a better look at Dean. There surely must have happened something. His brother could not probably have passed out. Never. Knocked unconscious, hurt, poisoned... But Sam simply could not find any traces. No wounds or injuries, no signs of an injection of any kind. Perhaps Dean was sick? Seriously ill? But while searching his brother's body he learned that Dean was not shivering from cold but the trembling he had just felt were actually seizures growing in force. Dean was moaning as Sam put his hand on his brother's forehead. _Add fever to the symptoms_, he thought.

Sam was already driving high speed to the next town, when he heard another moan in the car's back. He took a glance at his brother through the rear view mirror and was met with bloodshot eyes. "Dean...? Can you... Can you tell me, what happened?", Sam asked while watching both his brother and the empty street. He tried not to let the fear he felt slip into his voice but he did not quite succeed. "Don't feel so good, Sammy" Dean sounded weak, much weaker as Sam would have liked. And... _frightened_? The fact that his brother so willingly admitted that he was not 'ok' made Sam's stomach knot together. It must really be bad for Dean to... unless... Sam managed to stop the car, jump out, open the back door and get his brother at least partly out just in time before the gust of dark liquid that left his brother's mouth could stain the seats. He tried to comfort Dean knowing that no matter what he tried he was bound to fail at that task. Nevertheless he rubbed circles on his brother's back and waited for the fierce vomiting to stop. As Dean was only dry heaving, realization struck him. The dark, nearly olive liquid his brother had just vomited was blood. And Sam's concern was displaced by real panic..


	2. Chapter 2

Awareness crept slowly back. Pain radiated through his body, but Dean was not able to locate the source, name the exact spot this feeling was coming from. He tried to breath through the worst waves, before he heard the soothing hum of his baby's powerful engine. Then he felt the movement, associated with the sound of the motor. But unfortunately this very movement made his stomach turn. Nausea rose and Dean heard himself moan. He had to tell his brother to stop the car. Now. Dean managed to open his eyes and get up enough to get a glance at Sam driving the impala. Their eyes met and Dean noticed the deep lines of worry on his kid brothers face. Damn, he was going to frighten him even more. But right now there was nothing Dean could do about it. "I don't feel so good, Sammy..." His voice sounded so weak, Dean himself felt worry rise - unfortunately not only worry. His eyes were wide open in panic as he clenched his moth shut with both hands. Hopefully Sam would get the idea... Otherwise Dean would have to kick both of their asses seriously. Sam's for not stopping in time and his self for... Dean did not want to follow this very thought any further and fasten the inevitable even more. Suddenly his door was opened so forcefully he was afraid, it would be ripped off. Strong arms pulled him out, as the first wave hit him and the vomiting started.

Deans stomach hurt - oh, it hurt like hell. And he still felt sick to the bone but there was nothing left inside. That he knew for sure after the third round of dry heaving. Unfortunately his gag reflex did not know. He felt Sam's comforting hands, heard his calming voice and knew his brother must be scared shitless. They were nowhere even remotely near a doctor, he had just passed out, had tears in his eyes because of the sheer amount of pain he was in, had developed a steadily rising fever and was now trying to puke his stomach out - judging by the looks of the mess on the ground that was not only meant metaphorically - and he was thinking in Sam-speak. Something was seriously wrong.

Dean did not know how much time had passed. The next time he opened his eyes, Sam was sitting on the backseat, holding him tightly to his chest and was talking in a low voice. Dean's stomach was a bit more settled but the pain still was not gone. He heard himself groan when he tried to blink. It was still night with no lights outside except the moon. Sam was speaking to someone on the phone, but the words made no sense. Dean's thoughts were covered with haze and the pain did not make thinking exactly easy itself. Again thousands of knives were driven into his belly - from the inside and the outside likewise - and Dean groaned in pain. He heard Sam making soothing sounds, but he could not tell if it really were only sounds or words he did not get. Slowly the pain was ceasing enough for Dean to become a bit more coherent. Sam was obviously talking to someone on the phone - and trembling. Had Dean really scared his brother that much? He felt hot and cold at the same time and raised his hand in an attempt to wipe the layer of sweat that had gathered on his forehead away, before it could make its way down to his eyes. But somehow he was not fully in control of his own body anymore. Not Sam was shivering but himself. Dean felt a cool hand on his cheek. His brother was looking at him in this questioning way that was never good if you did not even hear the question much less know the proper answer. But Sam showed pity - more likely Dean was displaying such level of misery, but he was determined to disbelieve that. "Dean, we are going to the next hospital. But it will take some time. Just... Stay with me, dude. Ok? We are going to make it, you will be fine in no time. Ok, Dean?"

Finally Sam got someone on the phone who could help. The next hospital was miles away, but if they would send an ambulance they could meet half way. But only seconds passed before the other person crushed all of Sam's hopes. They were far off the hospital's domain. He wanted to kill someone. Preferably the guy on the phone. This was a freaking emergency! This was what ambulances and doctors where for! But Dean stirred suddenly and so he swallowed all his anger down. Sam had to stay calm and focused for Dean. He told the uncooperative dick to wait just at the border of their domain, because he was so planning to make it in time. Letting Dean die was simply not an option. He ended the call and watched as his brother made a weak attempt at lifting his arm. Whatever Dean wanted to accomplish, he did not succeed. The trembling grew in force and Sam was afraid, his brother was going to have a seizure. He laid his hand on one way too hot cheek and said: "Dean? We are going to the hospital, ok?" He was met with glassy eyes and a confused expression on his brother's face. Suddenly Sam was no longer sure his brother had enough time left for him to drive nearly 2 hours through this wasteland. He knew his voice was trembling and he sounded awfully close to real panic as he babbled: "Dean, we are going to the next hospital. But it will take some time. Just... Stay with me, dude. Ok? We are going to make it, you will be fine in no time. Ok, Dean?" Sam was not exactly sure if it only was wishful thinking but Dean seamed to nod in agreement before closing his eyes while another series of tremors run through his body.

Sam was so tired. he felt the exhaustion creep up his bones and slowly engulf his whole body. His eyes were burning and he had to blink a few times to bring the dark and empty road back into focus. But he did not slow down. He could not slow down. They had to reach the rendezvous point as soon as possible so Dean could be brought to the hospital at last. Sam failed to stifle a yawn. When he closed his mouth again, he felt strange. No, not he felt strange, something about the impala felt strange... It took Sam a few seconds before he saw the dark cloud of black smoke nearly invisible in the gloomy night that was steadily coming out of the hood. He was still not sure if he should try to get as far as the car would take them or stop immediately, as the impala made the decision for him and became notably slower. Only a few meters further the car came to a halt. They still had more than an hour to drive before meeting with the ambulance. But the engine was dead. For the first time the impala had let them down.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam was not exactly the mechanic of the family but even he knew that _this _was bad. As soon as the smoke was gone he saw the mess under the hood. The motor was still hot so he did not dare to touch anything nevertheless the younger Winchester was sure someone had sabotaged their car. There was _stuff _inside that just looked wrong. And he saw liquid leaking out of at least two different _things_. Dammit! He should have paid more attention to his brothers fondling around with the engine. Even if he would call Bobby for help he would not be able to just tell the other hunter which parts of the motor have had it. Sam closed the hood again using a bit more force than necessary. He was frustrated and very worried. And perhaps a bit afraid. Because quite frankly, _this _looked like someone was after them. Sam opened the impala's door to take a look at his brother when he froze mid step. First perhaps not only the imapa had been sabotaged. Perhaps Dean had been poisoned. And second he had just perceived movement in the dark woods surrounding the highway.

Deans teeth hurt like a bitch. And apparently he had a nasty hangover. He was not quite sure why he had drunken too much but obviously it had been too much. Otherwise his stomach would not be that upset and his head would not hurt that much and... why did his teeth hurt? A bar brawl? Someone had tried to smash his face in? He could not remember. But there was the taste of coffee in his mouth. Coffee... He felt bile rise and only moments later he was trying to puke his guts out - and had a strange feeling of deja-vu. But somehow he was much more aware of his surroundings. He just hurled all over the backseats of his baby - dammit! "Dean! Oh, I'm so sorry... I'm _so _sorry..." Sam was trying to clean himself and the upholstery while at the same time struggling to get his brother out of the car and the mess. Much to Dean's relieve he was able to leave the car nearly on his own. He staggered a few steps along the side of the impala before noticing the crunchy noises his boots made on the concrete. Dean tried to perceive the reason without leaning forward too much - he did not trust his stomach and his equilibrium yet. Salt! He was pretty sure this lighter-than-concrete and making-crunchy-noises-when-stepped-upon stuff was rock salt. "Sammy? Why'd you salt my baby?"

Sam did not know what to do first. Clean up the seats so Dean would not kill him for the blood stains - because he knew from experience dried blood would never come off the upholstery again. Or examining Dean for the effects of the poison so he perhaps might have a chance on finding out with what he had been empoisoned. Or search their surroundings for a new threat. He decided to give the seats a quick wipe while keeping an eye on Dean and trying to find out if his brother knew anything helpful. He was not even sure that there was something out in the woods - apart from normal wildlife. Perhaps he had seen an owl or a sleepless deer. He was still very sorry for not noticing on time that his brother had been going to be sick again. So he blamed solely himself for the mess. "Dean, do you have any idea what happened to you?" As he got no answer he hurried out of the car facing backwards. Sam was afraid Dean had passed out again but instead found him buried halfway inside the engine. He was not sure whether his brother was simply trying to get a glance at a particularly inaccessible part of the motor or if he had lost his equilibrium and needed help to raise again. Sam decided to go with the later and pretend to believe the first option. "Dean? Any idea if we can get her going again?" While asking he pulled his brother up again. But Dean simply shook his head - which neary cost him his balance. "Nah, need a garage. Poor girl's sick. "Speaking of _sick _- any idea what's up with you?" This time Dean did without the head-shaking. "'m fine. Jus' a headache 'n' upset stomach, Sammy." With every second Dean was leaning more and more on his brother. Sam knew he had not much time left - _they _had not much time left. "Dean, quit the crap. We both know it's not just an upset stomach. You were vomiting blood! Two times. Just tell me if you've got _any _idea what happened to you? I believe you've been poisoned. Did you drink or eat anything i haven't? Dean? Do you hear me? Dean?!" His brother slumped down a bit and Sam thought he was gone again, but then suddenly there was a rustling sound and Dean produced a nearly empty bag of m&ms. Hell, yeah! Sam himself had bought that packet at the last gas station they had made a break. Again movement in the woods caught his eyes. This time he was sure he had not seen a small bird or a deer. What ever was staking them was humanoid. And near.


	4. Chapter 4

It was no easy task to get a semi-conscious Dean back inside the impala in a satisfyingly quick manner. But right now Sam felt very vulnerable outside the car. Whoever was stalking them could not easily attack them inside. Ofcouse he knew it was a bad move to enter a space that small and effectively putting himself in a disadvantage should a fight occur. But even outside the car Sam would have to keep an eye - and a steadying hand or two - on his brother. So he would be seriously handicapped nevertheless. Glad he had cleaned the upholstery earlier Sam tried to prop up Dean properly so he would be comfy. His brother's head somehow rested on Sams shoulder while he was struggling to get the feet of the older hunter into the footwell behind the driver's seat. "Sammy? Why... why're we in the car? Where's dad?", he heard Dean ask in a confused and thin voice. His brother was now lying limply on the backseat, eyes closed, breathing laboured. Sam glanced out of the window while answering his brothers question. "Dad's outside. Hunting." "Hunting? I havta protect you, Sammy. Can't lie here'n' sleep." Dean was struggling to sit up again. Fighting for every inch. "Dean, you are sick. Dad told me to watch out for you while you rest." Sam again turned his face to the woods. He was not exactly sure but he thought had just spotted a figure hiding behind a tree. "Nah, 'm good. I'm the big brother. I watch. You sleep." Oh, Dean. Stubborn as ever. "Dean, listen. You puked already two times this night and stained the seats. Dad _is _already pissed. I'm sure you don't want him to get really angry with you, would you? So just take it easy for once, ok?" Sam knew it was not fair. It was like punching the kid already lying on the floor. But this was the only way he could think of right now to get his brother to relax. There! The reflection of something metal. There definitely was someone out in the woods. Someone with a weapon.

Sam just got his cell out of his pocket to call Bobby as the first shot was fired. He instantly ducked and pushed his brother as deep down as possible. Soon after he heard another bullet's impact somewhere near, perhaps even in the car. He listened carefully not daring to take a quick glance outside but instead of footsteps he heard a soft hissing sound. Whoever was out there had obviously hit one or more tires. Their attacker really did not want them to be able to drive away. Sam knew he needed his gun. There was too much open space before he could reach the woods and any kind of cover. Unfortunately all weapons were save in the trunk. He himself had talked Dean into putting even his favourite gun there instead of the glove compartment as always. Every time the police stopped them and wanted to take a look at their papers Sam was afraid the weapon would accidentally fall out while they searched for their current IDs. But right now he would even welcome the cops. Another shot and only moments later the driver's window shattered. Tiny bits of broken glass rained down on Sam, Dean and everything else. As soon as the ringing in Sam's ears stopped, he noticed a mocking male voice calling out to them. "Hey, Winchesters! Havin' a fine day?" "Who are you and what do you want?", Sam shouted in return. "Wanna know what's up with your poor brother? Come outside to talk." the answer sounded promptly. "Who guarantees you don't shoot me as soon as I get out?" Sam was trying to identify the voice but did not succeed. He had no idea who this madman could be. "If I'd want to hit you with a bullet, I've had plenty of opportunities, you would be dead now." True... Sam hesitantly eyed his brother. Dean as unconscious again. Sweat running down his flushed face in thick streams, the breathing shallow and laboured. He did not know how much time the had left but it sure as hell was not much anymore. If there only was the slightest chance to get this bloke to tell him the name of the poison... Perhaps he could overwhelm him. Surely there must be his car somewhere in the vicinity. They would be able to drive to the ambulance. "Ok! I'm coming out!"

It was really cold outside. Or perhaps it was just Sam's tiredness and his apprehension augmenting the chill of the night. The forest was quiet. Much quieter as it should be. Sam saw the silhouette of a man standing near the point where he had spotted the guy the first time. And he saw the barrel of a gun aiming at him. "Nice to meet you in person, Sam. Now would you be so good and put your cell down on the ground?" He still could not identify this guy. He was well build, broad with enough muscle to envy even Sam. And he had the aura of a predator. His face was in the shadows but Sam was quite sure this bloke was a Latino. The younger Winchester carefully put his phone on the ground planning on using his momentum when raising again to attack the other man but unfortunately he was faster. As soon as the cell left Sam's hand he felt his arms being twisted and cuffed together. The short chain of the handcuffs somehow under his belt so he effectively could not move his arms. "Who are you and what do you want?!" angry with himself for getting defeated without any chance to struggle Sam repeated his earlier question. This time the man condescended to give an answer. "I believe you've already met a mutual friend of ours. Gordon is his name. Oh, I forgot, you jailed him. That was not nice. As I said, I'm a friend of Gordon's. And I want revenge. That's why I poisoned your brother. And wrecked your car's engine. I know your brother told Gordon how he loves his car - what a perv... Do you think he would like to watch how his baby burns? I think we should hurry before he is too far gone to enjoy that show. You know, _Teufelsblut _works fast."

The man shot a bullet into Sam's cell after securing him to a tree. The rope holding Sam was wet and tight. He knew there would be bruises but right now that was the last of his worries. This madman really was planning on killing them both because another madman had tried unsuccessfully to kill him. What's the problem with insane hunters lately? He watched his phone shatter to countless bits. Four shots. Two left. As if the man had read his mind he chanced the clip before saying in a somewhat cheerful voice: "I'm getting everything we need for a proper cremation. You be a good boy and stay here." Sam let his head sink back onto the tree as the other departed and the rustling noise every step caused grow faint. The ropes were too tight. And Sam had no weapon or tool he could use to cut through them. If he did not manage to free himself before the guy returned they were really busted.


	5. Chapter 5

Finally the cold was creeping up Sam's bones touching his innermost core. It was not only the icy chill of the autumn night but also exhaustion and desperation likewise that made him feel like slowly turning into an ice cube. His fingers were tingling, not feeling anything else anymore. How was he supposed to pick the lock of the cuffs? Even if somehow he received the proper keys he would not be able to use them. Sam tried to bend his fingers, determined to work some feeling back into them. Suddenly there was a soft touch on his wrist he nearly missed, followed shortly by the metallic click of a lock being opened. Only moments later the tight rope was not so tight anymore. Sam struggled to get a look at his saviour, but the tree he was bound to was in his line of sight. Cautiously, so his constrains kept in place, he twisted and bended himself until he was able to get a look around the heavy trunk without the rope or cuffs falling off. The woods were empty.

Sam knew he had to wait for the madman to return. He did not know where his car was so he did not know where he himself should hide to lay an ambush. The best idea was to stay bound to the tree and jump his captivator as soon as the opportunity would arise. Hopefully the other man would return soon. Because Sam was really cold. And he needed to take a leak badly. While waiting the younger hunter's mind wandered. Teufelsblut. Sam had never before heard of that particular poison. But it somehow sounded german, a language he had never learned. The package of M&Ms had not looked suspicious. How did he get the poison inside? Dean had poped the bag of candies open as he always did, so the plastic had been intact. Sam heard footsteps rustling. The madman had finally returned. "Are you ready for the show?"

Sam did not have to wait long for the right moment. The opportunity occured as the other man stepped close to taunt Sam again. The younger hunter grabbed him at his shoulders pulled his right knee up and thrusted forcefully in the madmans groins. Sam did not even wait for his foe to hit the ground before breaking his nose with a single well aimed punch. The fight was over as suddenly as it had started. Sam's captivator lay unconscious at the young man's feet and it did not take him very long to disarm his adversary and loot him.

Although there was still a lot of adrenaline running through his veins, the exhaustion was back and Sam had not even reached the border of the woods when he started to slow down noticeably. How did they get this deep into the forest? He was quite sure he was running into the right direction, but was_ quite_ sure really enough? Fortunately soon after his doubts were dissipated as he caught glimpse of the road. The dark silhouette of the impala was still there, serene and save, but as Sam approached he saw the doors wide open. Dean was no where to be seen.

Sam's thoughts were racing. Whoever had rescued him had likely taken Dean. Although he assumed his saviour did not mean them any harm, Sam didn't believe he knew about the poison. He needed to call Bobby asap. Therefore he needed a phone. Dean's phone. Dean's phone stored neatly inside the glove compartment. Sam yanked the trap open and thankfully found the cell still inside. Hopefully Bobby knew this poison. Hopefully there was a cure.

"Hey, Bobby."

"Sam? Where's Dean?"

"He's in trouble. Bobby we need your help."

"What have you boys gotten yourself into again?"

"I think he's been poisoned. Ever heard of Teufelsblut?"

"Sounds german. That's the poison?"

"The guy who did it called it so."

"The guy?"

"Yeah. Knocked him out. But we're kind of stuck here. The impala's down. And he busted my cell, too. And Dean... I think we don't have much time left."

"Tell me about your brother, Sam."

"He was sick. At least two times. Vomited blood. He's got a fever. I think it's been rising the last hour. And he was unconscious for some time. Even delirious. And he's had seizures... Bobby, is there anything we can do? Some kind of antidote? The ambulance won't come, but someone picked my handcuffs, perhaps he could drive us, but I don't know if Dean's got enough time left. And he's gone..."

"Boy, calm yourself down. Ya ramblin' like my grandmother. Who picked the lock and what do you mean with he's gone?"

By the time the call was finished, Bobby had promised to research the poison and Sam had promised... well, not to dive into full panic headlong. So the younger hunter was pondering their - _his_ next steps, when he heard the familiar sound of an engine approaching - a car! Someone who could drive Dean to the next hospital! Eagerly Sam stepped out of the impala and positioned himself in the middle of the street, so the driver would effectively have to run him over if he did not stop. The car was not approaching very fast, it was not going a straight line even. "A drunken driver?", Sam thought. But right now he could not care less. He only needed this car. The drunkard could travel in the trunk. But as the car drove nearer, the speed dropped even more and it drifted dangerously to the left, already on the shoulder with one wheel. The younger hunter was not sure the car would reach him undamaged anymore. Only moments later the car indeed connected with an old tree, coming to a halt with a nasty sounding noise. Hopefully only the body was damaged, not the chassis or engine. It felt strange for Sam to worry about a car, much more to worry about a car that was _not _their impala. But he quickly shoved this thought aside. He had to focus. Focus on saving Dean - focus on _finding _Dean. Sam ran to the car standing just outside the woods, his long feet covering the distance in only a few strides. There was a shape inside, hunched over the steering wheel. A man collapsed in the diver's seat. Wearing a familiar leather jacket. Dean.


	6. Chapter 6

When Sam opened the door he was afraid what he would find. Dean was unconscious and did not even so much as stir when his brother manhandled him into the other seat. He was burning up and again slight shivers and tremors run through his limp body. But he was obviously still alive. Relieved Sam quickly circled the car checking for any damage easy to spot. But thank god he found nothing. So the younger hunter took the wheel and drove the short distance to the broken impala to retrieve some of their stuff including Dean's cell.

"Hey Bobby, Dean got a car. We are now heading to the hospital. Know anything about an antidote yet?"

"Yeah. This is quite some kind of poison. Could you two not for once take the easy way?"

"Bobby..."

"Right. How much time has passed since your brother took the poison?"

"I'm not sure..."

"Sam, _estimated_. I don't need the exact seconds!"

"It's not that easy. His M&Ms were poisoned. I bought the pack about three hours ago. I think he started on them soon after, but I fell asleep and I don't know how much of the poison he had to take for it to start having an effect..."

"Ok, let's go with 3 hours, the worst case scenario... How is he?"

"Unconscious, he nearly crashed this car... I wonder where..."

"Sam?"

"..."

" You're still there?"

"..."

"Sam?!"

"Yeah, Bobby. I just... I think Dean was the one who freed me and this car he got, it belongs to the madman."

"Where's Dean's car?"

"We left it."

"Care to tell me where so I can prevent the cops finding your arsenal in the trunk?"

"Yeah, 'fcouse... Highway 20... about 5 Miles from... Reva, in the hills. "

"Ok, got that. Now back to your pain-in-the-ass brother. You said, he's out again. Anything else?"

"His fever has gone way up. 'got no thermometer, but I'm sure it's above 40°. And he's... Oh, fuck!"

"Sam?"

"..."

"Sam?"

"..."

"Sam?!"

"..."

"Goddammit, boy! What's happening?! Talk to me! SAM!"

"Sorry, Bobby, he's got a seizure. A full blown freaking seizure! I... I don't know..."

"Sam, calm down. Just make sure you take your brother to the hospital as soon as possible and let them give me a call to fill them in. There's nothing about the poison you could possibly do. And Dean is going to have more cramps and seizures, so hurry the fuck up, before your brother decides to swallow his own tongue."

Sam ended the call and accelerated as much as he dared. Which was not very fast at all. This car was old and compared to their impala in a very bad shape. But it was all the had got for now. Every so often he took a glance at his brother, hoping for... he was not sure, perhaps hoping for a miracle, for Dean to be fine again. He managed to drive past the small town of Reva before Deans voice startled him. "Where's dad?" His brother sounded so small, so lost... Dean's eyes were wide awake but clouded by the glassy haze of the fever. Sam was afraid his brother was not quite in this reality again and hallucinating. "He's left me. This time for real..." Sam could hear all the resignation and forlornness in his brother's voice he would never let his little brother witness voluntary. "No, Dean. He's just not here. You know, he's on a hunt. Chasing signs of the yellow eyed demon. He would never abandon us. Much less _you_." "Sammy, he's left me before. You left me before. Ev'rybody keeps leavin' me. 'm a leavable person. A loser." As thankful as Sam was for his brother being conscious he really did not want to have to deal with his depressive mood. "Dean, you know, dad did not _leave _you. He thought he was protecting us. He just was keeping a low profile for a while. And I... I'm sorry, ok? I already told you. I'm sorry and I will never leave you again. Now I finally got it: there is nothing like a 'normal' live for me. Never will be. So, yeah, I am staying and you're pretty much stuck with me." Sam again took a glance at his brother and did not miss the water in his eyes. "I hope you're serious about that, Sammy, 'couse..." "I am serious, Dean. _Deadly _serious." Sam was frantically searching for a way to chance the subject. The chance came in a way Sam could pretty much dispense with altogether.

One moment Dean was abandoning himself to despair with only a small light of hope illuminating his Slough of Despond, the next he was filled with so much pain he would have been afraid to burst like a balloon, if was able to manage any coherent thoughts. His whole body was arching, fiery needles of blinding white pain stabbed through his stomach. The hurt deprived him of any higher brain function. Dean's world only consisting of pain, all hurt and ache. Minimized to only one feeling, highly compressed like a white dwarf collapsing to a black hole. The agony of pain ended as suddenly as it had started and left Dean gasping for air and bathed in cold sweat. The car had stopped and Sam was no longer occupying the drivers seat. Dean's door was standing wide open and his brother was on his knees next to him on the cold concrete, looking up to him with his panic wide eyes and trying to ease Dean's pain with simply talking. Frantically, desperately and for dear live talking nonsense. "Sam..." Dean's voice sounded breathless, raw and weak. He cringed inside but could do nothing against it. His little brother needed him. Now. "Sammy... it's ok. I'm ok..." He tried to soothe and calm his brother down and ended with patting his head like he was a big dog. But apparently it did the trick. Sam took a deep breath and nodded. "Dean, you scared the shit out of me..." Tiredness gripped the older hunter tight. Being in pain was really exhausting and being in that much pain was even more exhausting "'m sorry... fine now..."

Sam saw his brother's eyes dropping. He was relieved but still very shaken and in a complete turmoil. Hearing his brother howling and screaming with agony till his voice was hoarse and even breaking while not being able to do anything to relieve his pain left himself still trembling. Sam stood up again and walked with weak knees around the stolen car to the drivers side when he hear another car approaching. The other car apparently was going much faster as their rust bucket could ever manage without falling apart. Instinctively he opened the glove compartment but there were no guns in this car. If the madman had managed to hitchhike or hijack another car, he'd have to defend himself and his brother with his bare hands.

* * *

AN: One or more chapters to go. Hope, you're enjoying the show :)


	7. Chapter 7

It did not take Sam long to figure the approaching car was an ambulance. The lights were an unmistakable sign. They were no where even remotely near the next hospital's domain so Sam stayed alert. Perhaps demons had possessed these paramedics. Perhaps another one of Gordon's buddies was trying to kill them with a different trick. The younger hunter was determined not to let his guard down.

Soon after the other car came to a halt next to them. The engine was still running when one of the men jumped out and quickly run to their car clutching a dark case with a big cross painted in light colours, followed soon after by two others carrying a gurney. They met half way. "Samuel Wermington?" Sam nodded even if he could not remember clearly what name he'd given the hospital. "What are you doing here? I think we have still some miles left to cover..." The younger hunter tried hard to keep questioning their motives whereas the only thing he wanted to do was to let them to his brother. But he had to be sure. One of the other man finally catching up with their college answered: "We all made an oath. Not to obey management but to save lives. We sure as hell are not gonna sit around when there are people dying we could treat!" He sounded earnest, full of real compassion. Sam sighed heavily: "Christo..." No one flinched.

While leading the paramedics back to their stolen car Sam tried to fill them in as good as possible. He even remembered to mention Bobby awaiting their call to give them more information about the poison. When they finally reached the car and Sam opened Dean's door for them, one of the paramedics asked startled: "So, where's your brother?" The seat was empty. Dean was gone.

When the slightly out of tune rumble of the unfamiliar engine stopped Dean finally managed to crack open an eye. His brother looked nervous and was just searching obviously for a gun in the gloves department whereas even Dean's hazy brain managed to tell him the odds of finding a weapon in a foreign car. So Sam was worried and apprehensive. Why? And why had he stopped the car? From the short distance Dean himself had driven this vehicle he knew it was nothing more than a piece of crap, a rust bucket , but nevertheless it was a working rust bucket So there was no need for Sam to stop before the'd reach the nearest hospital. Dean was alone in the car, the driver door wide open. He had not noticed his brother leaving. The older hunter tried to get his slumped figure a bit up again and took a look outside. God, his teeth hurt...

Sam was totally taken abak. Just a minute ago his brother was more lying than sitting in the car, unconscious and barely breathing. And now he was simply _gone_! He slowly turned around trying to pierce the darkness with his gaze. They were no longer surrounded by forests and mountains but grassy hills and harvested fields divided by patches of dens bushes. It was even easier to hide here, dammit! What was going on in his brother's benighted mind? Sam knew they had to find him soon. First of all there was the poison ofcouse. But second he had left his jacket in the car and it was way to cold outside for only wearing a shirt.

"I have no idea where he's gone. The last time I've checked he was in no condition to stand on his own much less leave the car. He's been delirious before... So perhaps he fantasized..." One of the paramedics nodded in agreement. "Nevertheless we have to find him soon... It's a cold night." His colleague produced a heavy spotlight and gestured for them to swarm out. "He can't be far... Let's split up and hurry." Sam agreed wholeheartedly. They had to hurry.

A sharp grunt made his head snap up again. Sam had just dropped to his knees to check for tracks as a short series of noised alerted his senses. It sounded like some kind of fight - a really short fight indeed. Someones call for help was ended by a strangled noise then there was absolute silence again. As Sam had still no other weapon than his bare fists he approached very cautiously. As soon as he rounded the ambulance he saw all three paramedics sprawled on the floor and a forth person was just losing his fight to stay upright - Dean! His idiotic brother had just knocked out his medical attendance.

A few well aimed punches and forceful kicks and his foes never knew what had hit them. As soon as those bumpkins split to cover more ground Dean knew his chance had arrived. Even in his weakened state it was way too easy to sneak up behind each and every single of them and knock them out. He himself was amazed by the sheer power the though of someone doing his brother any harm could still gather. He knew it was mainly the adrenaline running through his veins that held him upright because just a few minutes ago he had nearly fainted while trying to leave the car unnoticed and now he was throwing punches like Chuck Norris himself. His father would have been proud. Protect Sammy. Sammy first. Always. Now those suckers were knocked off and he could feel the burning rush of action rapidly leaving his system. Only numbing cold was left behind. The world swayed - or more likely he himself was - and Dean had to concentrate not to pitch headlong to the ground. The pain was back in his stomach and made him double over before strong arms caught his shoulders. Dean felt his brother's presence. He was save. They both ware. He had managed to temporally ward of the threat. They were save. Save.


	8. Chapter 8

I'd like to thank everyone for the lovely reviews - as a writer of primarily german fanfic I am not used to more than a hand full of reviews for a whole story. Thanks. A. Lot :)

Sorry this chapter took so long. I got a bit carried away reading reports from Asylum in UK. There definitely will be RL-fic about... But now back to Sam and Dean...

* * *

Sam only needed two quick steps then he was next to his brother's swaying form. He put a steadying arm around the shorter man's waist and guided him carefully back to their car. There were still three unconscious paramedics lying on the concrete but right now the only thing Sam could do for them was preventing his brother from stumbling over their bodies. Thankfully the car door was still standing open so he managed to manhandle the older hunter without much struggle into the seat. Dean tiredly leaned his head back against the neck support. He had his eyes closed, breath coming in ragged spurts while there was fresh blood dripping from his mouth, running down his chin. Sam carefully swept sweaty strands of hair out of his brother's face. He was way to hot. If anything his fever had even gotten higher.

Sam allowed himself a few moments of rest - at least physical, because there was no way stopping the train of thoughts raging through his mind other than knocking him out too. He was exhausted, his fingers again numb with cold and he still needed to take a leak badly. But Sam was bound and determined. For once he would take care of his brother. Return at least a tiny bit... But there was no time left for dwelling in reminiscences. It was the time for action.

As his brother was save, back in the car again, Sam now could take care of the paramedics. Hopefully Dean had not hit them too hard. But knowing his brother he could also have wished for the yellow eyed demon to deliver his head sincerely, thank you very much. No, Dean had believed his brother in danger and all three man looked like they would not be going anywhere soon. Sam had to ponder their next step. And while doing so he was going to take a leak because seriously _now_ was the time.

The younger hunter came back relieved and determined. He knew what to do. There really were not much options to chose from. One after another he carried the paramedics back to the ambulance and stuffed them inside never letting his delirious brother out of sight for too long. Ofcouse he tried to arrange the three man as comfortably as possible inside the car, but there was not much space left, the gurney and medical stuff making the otherwise spacious van crowded. So he ended up more or less stuffing the paramedics inside. His brother once again would ride shotgun. That way Sam could drive and still have an eye on Dean. The younger hunter threw the duffel bag across his bag and manhandled his only slightly conscious brother to the ambulance.

"Sam? Where's dad?"

The younger Winchester had just closed his door and was fastening his seat belt, when all of a sudden Dean was back awake. More or less awake.

"What do you mean, where is dad?"

"He's hurt, right? I... I kind of remember... The semi... crushin' into us... totallin' ma baby... We... we need... ta... go to hospital, Sam!" His brother really sounded like on the wedge of panic. And unconsciousness.

"Oh, Dean. You're _so_ out of it."

"Whaddaya mean?"

Damn, had he said that out aloud? "Ah... You too are pretty hurt. And we are already heading to the hospital." To strengthen his words, Sam turned the key in the the ambulance's ignition and started to accelerate. He was not as skilled a driver as Dean was, this vehicle was totally new to him and he was dog tired so the younger hunter did not dare to floor the gas pedal. Having to deal with a more than slightly spacey Dean did not help his concentration, either.

"We havta save 'im. He can't die on us. Not now... We're gonna be a fam'ly 'gain." Dean was still rambling but every sentence was slurred a bit more and Sam was sure soon Dean would be out like a candle again. He did not know if that was really better. And now Sam was even getting a headache, great.

He did not exactly now where they actually were but Sam was afraid he would have to drive another half an hour before... His thoughts were interrupted when he saw movement from the corner of his eyes. One of the medics in the back was waking up. Damn, Sam would have to feed him a story but he had been to tired to even think about this necessity much less come up with something convincing. Perhaps... he could try to blame it all on Gordon's mad buddy. It was definitely worth a try. It took the paramedic nearly as long as Sam needed to drive all the way to the hospital. He was just entering the driveway only ambulances were allowed to take when the other man finally was coherent enough to sit up and ask what had happened. "You got knocked out by the same guy who tried to poison my brother. And now please help me. We're at the hospital. My brother needs a doctor _now_!"

They rushed Dean into a separate room at the ER. Sam had to stay outside. As always. His eyes burned with exhaustion, his vision was blurred and the headache had grown in force. The younger Winchester steadied himself planting a hand at the doorframe. He took a few deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. In. Huh, someone was poking him. He blinked a few times and turned his head. There was a nurse standing next to him. Tiny and fragile. And she was smiling. And talking - damn, Sam honestly had not heard a word. "Sorry... How can I help you?" Worry was slipping into her friendly expression. "I just asked the same... Actually, I need you to fill out a few forms... Sorry, bureaucracy's a bitch. Perhaps I could fetch you something to drink while..." Sam did not hear the end of her sentence. His eyes were focused on her face. Pretty, Dean would love to flirt with her. He noticed to late how his vision got black at the edge. Dean, was his last thought before he collapsed in front of the ER on the creme-colored hospital floor.


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Sorry for the slow update, too much todo in RL...

* * *

When Sam opened his eyes he was confused. He knew he was in a hospital but why was he lying in a bed himself? The sole reason for being here was his poisoned brother. So how did he end up in a bed himself? The last thing he remembered was Dean being carried away into one of the emergency rooms. Damn, he was tired...  
"Boy, ya awake again?"  
Sam turned his head and saw Bobby sitting on a chair next to his bed.  
"Bobby! How's Dean?"  
"Figured that would be the first thing you'd ask. Doc said he's stable."  
Sam sight heavily with relieve. Dean would be fine.  
"What's with the impala?" Surely Dean would want to know what happened to his baby as soon as he was conscious enough to form words.  
"What is it with you boys and the damn car?"  
"Dean is going to kill me if something happened to his car..."  
"Of course I got it. And as soon as you stop fainting in front of nurses I might be able to actually work on it's engine and get your brother's car going again."  
_Faint?_  
"I did not faint."  
"Decided to take a nap? On the floor?"  
"I was really tired..."  
"You're exhausted, boy! Totally worn! Doc said you've got the flu. So why are you two idjits out on the road instead of recuperating in a cozy motel bed?"  
"'m fine..."  
"'Course you are. We've all seen that."  
"I _had _the flu... but I'm well..."  
"Boy, when a doctor says you've got the flu I believe him more than your... counter statement. Especially after the little stunt you've pulled at the ER."  
"Ok, fine... so what now?"  
"Now you two are staying here exactly as long as the doctors want you to. Rest, recuperate, relax. And don't even dare to think about sneaking out..."

It was just after dawn. Shadows filling the old house, obscuring each and every movement. They still did not know what they where up against. Although Dean did not like it, the brothers had to split. Time was running out and for all they knew the girl held captive in this rotten building could already be dying right now. "A dark cult", Sam had said. "They are going to sacrifice a virgin just after sunset. It will give them ultimate power. First she will be tortured, then..." Dean had interrupted Sam's explanations at this point. He was determined to spare the girl this experience. So now they were in the old house, packed with weapons, cuffs and a huge first aid kit. And they had to split. Dean understood this was necessary but that did not mean he had to like it. "Sam, you search upstairs. I'll take this floor 'n' the basement. Be careful." His voice was sincere and his brother did not miss the hardly hidden worry in it.

Dean took his gun and the flashlight thinking the hundreth time about how much easier it would be taping the light to his barrel when he checked the first few rooms. They were all empty except rotten furniture and several dead rats. Dean could hear his brother's soft footsteps upstairs for another few minutes. Then there was silence. Sam was now obviously in the southern part of the house whereas Dean just entered the hallway leading north. No, this ramshackle building was no ordinary 'house', the older hunter corrected himself immediately, this must have been a real mansion once.

Right as Dean was leaving what once had been a sleeping room judging by the huge metal bed frame occupying a good half of the space when he heard a soft whimper. The hunter stopped, stood perfectly still and tried not to breath. Where had the sound come from? There! Another... from somewhere downstairs. Dean knew it would be hard getting inside the basement in a quiet and stealthy manner - the floor was creaking with each and every step and some of the doors could no longer be opened, so Dean either had to batter in a door or take it off its hinges to get through - but nevertheless he tried as best as he could.

Carefully he took one step after another, descending the old wooden ladder leading down into the pitch black basement. The air was used and full of the heavy scent of rotten wood and fresh blood. It made Dean's stomach churn and he wished for once the victim would be held in a hygienically clean and well smelling room. Functioning electrical lights. No dust as thick as snow. Now cobwebs clinging to his hair afterwards. No... There! He could hardly make out a human body on a table in the dim light at the other side of the room. Dean let his flashlight wander fully aware that he made himself an easy target by doing so but as soon as he would try to free the victim he would be the main target nevertheless so at least now he knew how this area looked like, where an assassin could hide... Holy crap! There where several limps hanging from the low ceiling! Fresh limps judging by the blood still dripping and forming puddles on the ground. Disgusted Dean noticed the arms and feet were not hanging at random points but in an exact circle. Between the slowly growing pools on the earth someone had not only draped black candles but also drawn figures and symbols Dean had never seen before.

The person on the table was moarning again and the older Winchester knew he had not much time left. He had to hurry. From the corner of his eye he saw a shadow moving but it was too late. The handle of a shotgun connected brutally with his head and the hunter was down before he knew it.

Awareness came back with the mother of all headaches and the realization that he too was held captive now. Hopefully this guy had not gotten Sammy, too.  
Sammy.  
Sammy was right there, standing beside the woman bound to the chair. Something was wrong. _So _wrong. His brother was holding a slightly crooked, engraved dagger - and was canting something in a dark sounding language Dean did not know. Sam cut himself in the arm and let a small amount of his blood drop onto the woman before turning to Dean. "I'm so sorry... I didn't wanna hurt you, but we've got no time to lose. It will soon be over and you'll feeling better, I promise." Dean wanted to say something but he could not. His throat was so dry he only managed a weak croaking sound. _"You have to protect Sammy" _his father's voice echoed through Dean's head._ "If you can't save him you will have to kill your brother." _Has Sam gone darkside at last?! He saw his brother rummaging on a shelf, the younger hunter's broad back effectively blocking every sight. Dean felt his vision slowly cloud over again. The hit must have been harder than both Winchesters had thought... Faraway Sam was mumbling something. A few short words in a foreign language. Then the sound of water being poured into a glass cought Dean's attention again. Only a few moments later, he felt something cool being pressed against his lips. The older hunter took a great gulp before his eyes snapped open in pure horror. This was no water! The rich colour of this thick liquid... blood. Dean spat everything out that was still in his mouth, but he had already swallowed a fair amount. He felt sick to the stomach when his brother raised his chin with a strong finger so he had to look him into the eyes - yellow shrouded eyes. Even in this dim light he was sure.

"Sam! What have you done?!" the older Winchester gasped. "I am fulfilling my legacy. And you will be one of us, too. We will be together, Dean. Forever. No one is gonna separate us again. No one is gonna hurt us again." Sam was smiling blissfully but in Deans stomach burning hot panic began to spread. "Us? What do you mean, 'one of us'? You are none of them. You are like _me_, Sammy. You are my little brother, always will be..." The fire inside his belly was stronger as his panic now and still increasing, made it impossible to speak any longer. Slowly it burned his way up to his chest, engulfed first his heart and soon after his head. Waves of pain, pure agony rolled over him, filled his whole body like a stuffed animal. Fire burned inside his brain, made thinking nearly impossible. Then the fire coated his body, no longer touching his soul and Dean again became aware of his surroundings. The young woman was dead. Her heart ripped out. Sam was standing next to him. Worry and hope gleaming in his eyes. Hands bloody up to the sleeves - bloody sleeves. He wanted to shout at his brother, but there was a presence inside his head, a foreign voice talking. "Now you are one of us. Now no one stands against us. Now we will rule the world." Dean watched in horror, as his body stood, no longer bound to the chair, and hugged his brother shortly before turning to the stairs. None of this was at his bidding. He was getting into a panic. He could not move, could not talk, could not do anything. And as they left the building he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror. His once green eyes had become yellow, too.

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AN: I think the next one will be the last chapter. 10 sounds good... *nods*


	10. Chapter 10

Dean was still. The only movement coming from the machinery pumping blood trough his veins and filling his lungs with air. Sam hated intensive care cabinets. They were small, packed full of medical machines and the beds always looked as uncomfortable as the chairs for visitors where. But the worst was the air. Sterile. Lifeless. Like the bodies lying in the beds. Full of hope and despair likewise.

Bobby had said Dean was sleeping - Sam had not had a chance to speak with the doctor, yet. A deep and artificial sleep. But a sleep nevertheless. Whereas Sam was not completely sure. He'd seen his brother sleep often enough - even in IC - to say this was no normal sleep. He was too still. Like unconscious or in a coma, but with his eyes moving behind closed lids like dreaming in the REM phase.

The younger Winchester again checked the monitors hooked to his brother. Pulse of 40 beats per minute. Blood pressure of 90 to 40. That was not very high. But Sam was no medic. As long as the doctors thought it ok he would not worry about his brothers heart. There was enough other stuff for him to worry about. Like the fact that Bobby had also said that Dean had to fight and overcome the Teufelsblut not only physically but spiritually as well. What ever that meant.

There was sweat glistering on Dean's forehead. That was new. Puzzled Sam took another glimpse at the monitors. The heartbeat was now at 90 BPM and still rising. 104... 116... 132... 148... 159. When Sam pushed the button for the nurse, the machines alarm had already gone off. Dean was breathing heavy, laboured and he was clutching the sheets with white knuckles.

The only thing the doctors could do was to give Dean more sedatives, narcotics, pain killers. It was very unsatisfying knowing his brother was fighting for his live but Sam was limited to watching. Bobby hovered over the younger hunter. He made him drink. He made him eat but he did not succeed making him sleep. Even for a few hours. Sam was thinking. Surely he had forgotten something. There _had _to be a way to help Dean.

Dean was nothing more than a visitor, an observer in his own body. He felt the demon inside himself getting stronger every second. The older hunter could hear the demon's thoughts and was relieved this connection obviously worked only in one direction. Suddenly they were no longer sitting in the impala but standing in their shitty motel room. Somehow the intruder was fucking with his perception. Dean had to be more careful. Demon-Sam opened his laptop and motioned Demon-Dean to join him. Dean made sure to watch whatever his demon brother wanted his demon self to see - damn! That was way too much demon for his liking.

Sam had opened GoogleMaps and was zooming in on the middle of South Dakota as Dean felt something had changed. Pressure was building inside him, pushing him to one side. Although Dean's essence - for he did not know what he really was right now, he was going with this term - however, his essence didn't have a body that could be crushed but, fuck, right now it really felt like exactly that was happening. He was suffocating and drowning, felt non-bones break and non-teeth shatter. Red hot agony cutting through the pitch black nirvana. He felt himself float next to a wall he could not see. Things were rushing past him and there was laughter. Recognition and realization filling Dean. He knew the voice. It was Him. The Yellow Eyed Demon. Inside Sammy. Joined to be never separated again. Desperation engulfed Dean and he stopped fighting. There was no point. His Sam was gone. Forever.

_"Dean has to overcome the poison not only physically but spiritually as well."_ Bobby's words were still in Sam's ears. According to him Dean was trapped in some kind of demonic dream battle. And he wasn't doing especially well.

"Mr. Wermington, I'm afraid your brother might not see the next morning. You should prepare your self..."

"Dean won't make it, Sammy. I'm sorry, but we can not help him. I've exhausted every connection, called in every favour..."

Everybody had already shed hope of rescuing Dean. But not Sam. He would not stop until his brother was _really_ dead.

A dream battle. He was a damn psychic after all! He had visions and once even moved a whole cupboard only with the power of his brain because his brother was about to die. And now he was dying again. He knew they both had a strong connection. So strong that perhaps... Sam sat down on the floor next to Dean's bed and told Bobby about his plan. No one was to disturb him._ No one_.

Sam closed his eyes and tried to find his inner core. He blocked everything out. Voices... faraway... But the younger hunter concentrated only on himself. Empty thoughts filled his mind. Breath in... Breathing... Dreaming... Demon... He no longer remembered why he came or where he was. Breath in... Breath out ... So far away...

Only a few minutes after Sam started his meditation Dean's heart stopped beating. The younger Winchester sat absolutely still while the doctors tried to reanimate his brother. A small anchor of sanity and calm inside the storm of frantic actions. Bobby felt tears stinging in his eyes. He did not believe whatever Sam was trying could possibly be successful but... what other option had they left? With the courage born of desperation the boy had thrown himself into another kind of battle. Bobby knew Sam had never done anything even remotely similar but the kid was hoping against hope... When Dean was dead and Sam had not been able to do anything against it, the young hunter surely would blame himself and, boy, the kid could be emo enough without this additional luggage. If. If Dead would die. The older hunter scolded himself. Dean was not dead yet. The medics managed to get a weak and erratic heartbeat back. He was still alive. Barely. But _still_.

A steady beat... Breath in... Breath out... _I don't remember why I came_... Breathing... _No more reason to stay_... A freezing feeling, then suddenly the light was back. And Sam really wished it would be gone again. His brother was lying in front of him. On the floor. Naked. Bloody. Shackled. Damn. Sam blinked a few times before he noticed his body was moving without his brain willing him to. It was like watching a movie. Sam saw his hands holding a long and curved dagger. He heard his own voice chant in a foreign language. He felt the blade sting into his forearm. He watched drops of dark red blood falling on Deans chest. He watched his brother's eyes pop open again. A yellow haze covered them. That was enough for Sam. He still did not exactly know what was going on but he had a sketchy idea. The younger hunter concentrated again. He focused on himself. And managed to zero in on a alien presence. He was not alone in his body. Ad he was planning on doing something about it.

It was not exactly fighting fair but Sam was desperate enough to use dirty tricks. Obviously the demon was way stronger than the younger Winchester could handle. But his attention was split. It was like a good old bar fight. A brawl. Ducking and dodging. Maneuvering his enemy where he wanted him to be. Waiting for the next powerful punch and let his opponent's movement take him to the exact spot he wanted him to be. Later Sam would not be able to describe how he got rid of the demon properly, but it looked like the evil force left trough the self inflicted ritual wound. Sam was alone. Breathing heavily, his head spinning but in full control of himself again.

Regna terrae, cantate Deo,  
psallite Domino  
qui fertis super caelum  
caeli ad Orientem  
Ecce dabit voci Suae  
vocem virtutis,  
tribuite virtutem Deo.

Sam was right. There was a Demon inside his brother. Dean's face contorted with pain and anger as his brother recited the exorcism he had memorized.

Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus  
omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio  
infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,  
omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.

The demon still was inside Dean, not willing to let his prey go so easily.

Ergo draco maledicte  
et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te.  
cessa decipere humanas creaturas,  
eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare.

Bobby realized something was happening as soon as Deans heartbeat increased. Still erratic and weak but clearly faster. The old hunter pushed the button for the nurse with more force than necessary never letting his eyes off the older Winchester who had started to moan like he was in heavy pain. Gnashing his teeth, breath shallow and fast like he was fighting for his live - what he actually was. He took a glance at Sam who had not moved in the last hour. He saw sweat glistering on the kid's face, damp strands of hear sticking to his forehead, breathing faster than before. Hope blossomed in Bobby's chest. Those Winchesters... perhaps they would make it after all...

Terribilis Deus de sanctuario suo.  
Deus Israhel ipse truderit virtutem  
et fortitudinem plebi Suae.  
Benedictus Deus. Gloria Patri.

Sam finished the shortened version of the ritualum romanum that had worked for them so many times before. Anxious he patted his brother's cheek. "Christo?" He needed to take a look at his eyes, needed to sprinkle him with holy water, needed to make sure Dean was save. They were both still inside Deans... Dream? Head? Fantasy? Whatever, they were still inside meaning he had not quite succeeded. What had Sam overlooked. He raised again and observed the surroundings. An empty room. Dusty. A complex circle drawn with different colored chalk on the concrete floor. Candles burning. Candles burning! Hastily he kicked at them, trying to put them out without burning himself. It only took a few tries then they were again covered in darkness.

* * *

I think one more part, than the boys are free to hit the road again :)


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Sorry for the slow update, the Kindergarten is closed and with both kids at home there is not much time for writing. But I got the story banner finished (LJ only)!

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Sam woke to the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. A fierce headache was pounding behind his forehead and as he blinked sharp pain pierced through his eyes directly into the brain because of the dim light filling the room. It felt like the migraine-like headache after one of his visions. Except for the weariness. Although not even really awake yet the only thing Sam wanted was to sleep again. But he could not. Not before he made sure Dean was alive.

Turning his head was out of question and reaching for the button to call the nurse was not an option either as long as he could not move his head and actually search for it. So Sam tried to speak hoping Bobby was still here. He could not hear another person next to him because it was not really quiet in the room. A steady hiss coming from the oxygen tube underneath his nose, a soft and regular beeping - some kind of heart monitor - and a noise like waves on the shore. A... a respirator! Why was he on a respirator when he was breathing on his own?

"Boy, you awake?"

That was Bobby's gruff and worried voice.

"Yeah..." Sam was astonished he was able to produce sounds remotely identifiable as words. His throat was dry and raw, his tongue as heavy as after a few shots too much.

"How ya feelin'?"

"Tired... thirsty..." That was not completely true. But Sam figured with a few sips of cool water not only would speaking be much easier but hopefully he would become at least a bit more awake.

While helping Sam drinking out of a straw Bobby filled the younger hunter in. He had been out for more than 36 hours. "Boy, you pulled a stunt there... Although scared the shit out of me." But Dean was alive. If Bobby had gained a few more gray hair in the process, Sam did not care. "He's still unconscious and on the respirator but..." Sam did not hear the rest the older hunter had to say. The respirator! He could hear the machine so it was here. That also meant his brother must be in this room too. The younger Winchester managed to turn his head although hot pain exploded behind his eyes as soon as he started the movement.

Approximately not much more than a meter away stood the other bed. Bobby was sitting in the small gap and watched Sam with a sorrowful expression but the younger hunter's attention was solely focused on the motionless body under the duvet tubes were coming out off. They ended in bags and pouches some filled with fluids, some empty. Dean was pale with dark rings under both eyes. But he was alive. On the road to recovery. Sam had done it. He had saved his brother. He broke into a tired but happy smile before he let his eyes fall shut again. "'m sleepy... Wake me 'f..." Bobby did not wait for Sam to finish his sentence he knew the younger Winchester was again fast asleep. Of course he would wake him as soon as Dean regained consciousness but frankly that was not bound to happen in the next few hours.

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AN: I know this is a fairly short chapter by my standards. But actually the next thing planned would be the prologue. Except you want me to write more Dean & Sam in the hospital. So drop me a line if you think this ending is too sudden and the prologue should wait a little longer :)


	12. Chapter 12

Dean drifted slowly back to consciousness. At first smell returned, filling his nose with the antiseptic scent of a intensive care unit. Gradually his other senses joined in and soon after he was aware of a familiar voice. It took Dean a few moments before he could place this gruff tone. Bobby. He was in a hospital. As a patient. Why was Bobby there? Where was Sam? Sam... memory came back as a flood of pictures and impressions. Sam. Sam and the yellow eyed son of a bitch. Coalesced as one. He had to warn Bobby. Dean opened his eyes partly to make sure demon Sam was not here partly to just see Bobby. Instantly he had the older hunter's attention. But no words came out of Deans mouth. Something was stuck inside his throat. He could not swallow, he could not breath properly and felt panic rise. "Calm down, boy! The doctor's on his way. You'll have this tube out in no time." The older Winchester tried to grasp the plastic and pull it out, free his throat before he suffocated. He did not come far, both arms - much weaker than they should be - were easily held by Bobby. Was he possessed, too? Was he trying to kill him? Dean doubled his affords with strength born of desperation. He did not want to die this way. He did not want to choke on some plastic duct. He really needed to swallow. Then everything was black again.

The next time Dean managed to wake up a young doctor was standing beside his bed. "Mr. Wermington, how are you feeling?" Dean watched the other man confused before he finally managed to mouth "What happened?" On the second try the doctor was actually able to understand him and answered with genuine concern in both his voice and facial expression. "You had a mayor panic attack because of the tube in your trachea. I'm afraid we were forced to sedate you." The young man was obviously not finished yet but Dean needed to talk to Bobby. Here and now. Alone. It was rather easy to get rid of the doctor, telling him to return and go through all this doctor-patient stuff as soon as Sam was here again. After the door was closed again the older Winchester immediately turned to Bobby. "Sam... he's possessed. 've seen him. Yellow eyed. Killed a girl 's well." His throat was still raw and every syllable hurt as if the tube had been a bottlebrush instead. But he could not shut up. He had to tell Bobby. They had to do something about Sam. Save him if possible. Kill him if inevitable... He felt his eyes water at this thought. "Bobby... we..." The door being opened interrupted him mid sentence. Sam. The younger Winchester was carrying two paper cups of still steaming coffee and stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed his brother was not only awake but talking. Dean turned to Bobby again panic rising inside his chest once again. "Please... help me... stop him... He tried to kill me, Bobby! Exorcise him! _Please_!"

Sam had the presence of mind to quickly close the door before Deans frantic pleadings could alert a nurse or doctor. And end with a unpleasant stay in the psychiatric ward. With two quick strides he was next to Dean's bed putting the cups down and turned to face his brother. But Bobby mentioned him to stay silent. "Dean, stop this bullshit and listen. Look at your brother. Look a him!" As Dean not immediately obeyed the older hunter gently took his head and made the older Winchester watch Sam. "Christo." Nothing happened. "Did you see that, dumbass? Your brother is fine. You were just hallucinating. What ever you saw, it just happened in your own sick imagination." But Bobby could easily tell Dean was no way convinced yet. "Oh, you Winchesters are such pigheads! Do I really have to exorcises a non-existing demon before we all can have a nice little chat?" He did not need to wait for an answer. He already knew. So the older hunter started to recite the latin he memorized so many years ago.

Sam could exactly tell the moment Dean noticed he was not possessed and Bobby indeed had spoken the truth. Tears flooded his brothers eyes and although the doctor had told Sam that Dean likely had sustained nerve damage through the poison he was not geared up to watch his stoic no-chick-flicks brother cry his eyes out. Sam did not kow what to do. He only felt he had to do _something_. So in the absence of any better idea he sat down next to his brother and pulled him carefully into a tight hug. "That boy made sure to open all watergates...", he heard Bobby mumble but even the older hunter's voice sounded shaky. It took a long time for Dean's copious tears to run dry but Sam patiently helt him close waiting for his brother to calm down again. He did not say anything, just offered silent comfort. Once in a while he and the older hunter would exchange glances but every time Bobby just shook his head and motioned Sam to just don't stop. Eventually Dean fell in an exhausted sleep and Sam felt totally beat, too.

Dean knew what to expect. He had had his fair share of concussions and taken the appertaining emotional roller-coaster involuntarily way too often. But even he could tell this was different. Although the doctor had collated the emotional symptoms with a traumatic brain injury (his words, not Dean's) Dean had never ever felt the urge to burst into tears because his brother brought him a copy of Busty Asian Beauties. He did not even have to take a look at Sam to know he was taken aback by Deans outburst of tears. The jejune food he got as lunch made him cry again and as Dean could not even watch Simpsons in the afternoon without needing a tissue he was really bugged... and desperate... and ready to blub some more.

Sam really started to worry. The doctor had told him Dean was getting better rapidly, his circulatory system strong again and despite the damage done to his stomach he brother could be released in only a few more days. Good news so far. But. The crying issue (as Sam dubbed Dean's new tendency to burst into tears all of the sudden) was not fixed yet. According to the doctor Dean would stay emotionally unstably for _some _time - no one could specify. Perhaps he would even need a shrink... Not an option. What should they tell him? Dean got poisoned by a magical drug which manifested itself as the yellow eyed demon trying to overtake Dean? So not an option. But a weep-easy Dean was not an option either. At least not if Sam wanted to stay sane.


	13. Epilog

Dean's first night in "freedom" again was pretty uneventfully. Sam was very grateful for that. His brother crying while watching Simpsons was still a strange sight but one he could easily pretend not to notice. Dean crying because Sam brought him a glass of water or had done laundry was a lot more disturbing. But the youngest Winchester could convince himself they were doing better by the hour. One last night in this sleazy motel room. Then they would be off again.

The morning had been a bitch. Because Dean without coffee? Not so good. And Dean without coffee and pancakes, dougnout or similar "healthy" food? A sign of the nearing apocalypse. So Sam was _really_ glad when they were ready to hit the road again. As soon as his brother was behind the wheel he relaxed noticeably and his mood got better. No more bitching about gruel or wholemeal toast. Only the road, the impala, Dean and ACDC. So far, Sam thought , he was doing quite ok.

A few hours later it was time for Sam's next challenge: lunch. Dean was not exactly happy with having to eat healthy and easy to digest food and had set his mind on having a steak or something similar from one of the barbecue houses that they were passing. With lots of grease. And beer. Sam had hoped for more cooperation. But he knew his brother. No such luck. The younger Winchester decided to let his brother have his own will and find out the hard way. At least by this means they could avoid at least one teary disagreement. So when Dean parked the impala in front of a diner with "Today: Barbecue" written on a large blackboard Sam just shrugged and followed his pig headed brother inside.

_You've got to hand it do Dean_, Sam thought, he had picked a diner where the delicious smell of grilled meat was in the air and no rancid, old grease. He could not only hear his own stomach rumble. Both man quickly found a booth and after a smiling middle aged waitress handed them the menus Sam scanned quickly through the assortment of dishes. They really didn't do things by half here. There even was a seperate folder for the barbeque. Grilled cheese, tofu, various vedgetables, corn, steaks, spareribs, pultry, sticks, burger, potatoes. Sam's mouth was watering only from reading the individual positions. He heard Dean swallow and then mumble: "I think, I've found heaven on earth..." They ordered and soon found them sipping their cool beers relishing the peacefully and _normal _atmosphere. Sam could nearly imagine really just being on a road trip with his big brother, traveling to all those places of interest spread across America. Dean leaned forward and said with an honest smile: "Dude, we totally should stay here." Sam answered with cheerful laughter. "Ev'ry thing you want, Dean. But you know, we promised Bobby we'd see him as soon as you're out again. So unless you want him on your heels we better move our butts over to his idyllic manner." The older Winchester nodded with a deadly serious face. "You're right. I'd rather not have him haunt my ass."

Sam's grilled tofu, Haloumi and potatoes were delicious. This clearly was the best barbecue he'd had this year. The food definitely was to Dean's liking too. The older Winchester wolfed down his steak followed by two mixed meat sticks and fries. Although the bill was a bit higher than what they had normally for lunch Sam didn't mind. He was sated and content. Nearer to happy than he had ever been since the day Dean suddenly showed up at Jess's and his flat and begged him to join the search for their father.

Of course this pleasant vibe could not last forever. They were about an hour into the drive to Bobby's when Sam noticed Dean's discomfort. The thin line of compressed lips. Fine drops of sweat on his forehead. A slightly paler complexion than a few minutes ago. The tensed muscles in his jawline. "Dean, you're alright? Want me to drive?" Although Sam exactly knew what was troubling his brother and had been determined to let him suffer somehow pity crept inside his resoluteness. "Nah, 'm fine, Sam." Dean simply clasped the steering wheel tighter, stubborn as ever. But as he failed to totally stifle a groan a few moments later, Sam shook his head and muttered: "Yeah, right. Just turn the other way when you're gonna puke. I like my shoes." "'m not gonna..." Dean's denial was cut short by a deep belch followed by him frantically stopping the impala and stumbling out of the car. Sam was by his side a second later. Part of him smiling with malicious glee, part of him suffering with his brother.

Sam tried his best to comfort Dean while ignoring the violent retching and belching noises his brother made. At one point the younger Winchester thought he was going to be sick too but thankfully his stomach was stronger. And when Dean finally was finished with nothing left to barf out, Sam helped him up again, pointed on the mess on the concrete and said weepy while trying hard to fight back a grin: "You know, there on the floor, that's been 15 dollars of fine food only a minute ago." Dean let his brother hold more of his weight and mumbled: "I hate you..." Sam had to support the older Winchester a bit more and let it serve as an excuse to hug his brother. The smile finally spreading across his face. "Jerk." He could feel his brother hug him back when he retorted: "Bitch." Sam was confident. His brother might be a bit more touchy-feely than usually but they were gonna make it.

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AN: thanks for reading :)


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